It’s bad, she knows, but she does it anyway. She likes the way it feels and the badness is a part of that. If it was no danger it wouldn’t feel like that. If she was always in control she wouldn’t come like she does. She wouldn’t fantasise, quite so often, about her cunt being filled by the spunk of some stranger, an unknown, a lover she’ll never see again.
To keep herself in check, she makes rules. Never on the first date. She can fuck a boy on the first date or she can fuck him bareback. Never both at once. That’s the hardest rule to follow, but she sticks to it religiously. Either or. Not both.
The other rules are much less onerous.
They need to *have* condoms… even if she’s not going to use one. Almost all boys do. The ones who don’t are trouble.
And they need to be able to talk about it. Prudes are bad news. *Danger, danger*. If they blush or go quiet or try to laugh it off when she asks them when they last got tested, it’s a no-go. She’s going home alone.
About half the time, she goes home alone. That’s just how it is.
The other half of the time they talk about it. She and her new lover. It’s like foreplay to her, comparing notes with a new boy. Working out what indulgences she can allow herself with them. Working out what they’re willing to do with her. *Have you ever done it without a condom before? Have you ever done it without pulling out?*
There’s one final rule which she always applies, even if they pass all the other tests: they need to be excited by it. By the idea of fucking bareback. They need to want to come in her. They need to need it, and she needs to see that need in their eyes.
Not for safety, this rule, but for pleasure. She wants them to blink when she suggests it. She wants them to be hungry when they take her clothes off. She wants them to make that noise – that little *grunt* of desperate need – when she takes them, their unsheathed cock, and presses it into her cunt.
She wants to be able to say it, those words, *come in me, please come in me, please come right in my cunt.* She wants to be able to say those words and really, truly mean them.
*
*As always with the filth I write, this story is cross-posted* [on my blog](https://www.lascivity.co.uk/)*. Cheers!*
Love your work!